


Sins of the Father (A Drarry Fic)

by LittleLadyLazarus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bi!Harry, Bullying, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, gay!draco, mention of self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4377239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLadyLazarus/pseuds/LittleLadyLazarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's mental state after the war is a wreck. Everything he knows is falling apart, he's ostracized by the entire school, and now he's got an abusive boyfriend who likes making out a lot more than he does, and who his parents can never find out about.<br/>Harry loves Ginny, but he's not in love with her.</p><p>When Harry and Draco slowly begin to form a bond of friendship, could it be something more? And will Draco's thinning frame and deteriorating mental state ruin their chances?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Draco Malfoy was an outcast.  
There were many things Draco Malfoy had done, many things he could say he had been in his life, but an outcast was definitely not one of them.  
And why would Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, be an outcast? Because of the snake and skull tattooed on his forearm. The tattoo that he thought would have kept him from finishing his schooling at the very least, but now just left a big, great, dark mark of shame for himself and all his peers to see, and all thanks to Potter.  
After the war, Draco assumed his schooling was through. The Malfoys, while losing all respect from the wizarding community and all influence in the ministry, had been as close to forgiven as they could get when they switched sides last minute. (Bah. Last minute? Draco knew what he was doing. The Dark Lord wasn’t anywhere near what he was cracked up to be, but when his headquarters was your house, what were you supposed to do if not follow him? His parents, well, they still looked at his fall as a great horrible disaster. Lucius switched sides only for himself, and Draco very well knew that.)  
But no, his schooling wasn’t through, because the great Harry Potter, Chosen One, Boy Who Lived, had to step in. Precious Potter, trying to forgive everyone and make everything alright in the world.  
And that is how Draco came to be an outcast to the entire school. When he ate, he’d only make brief appearances in the great hall to grab a roll and jam or a sausage before disappearing again to eat alone in some secret passageway or other. He tried to hide in the Room of Requirement sometimes, and found a nice little room with a table and a window and a telescope, but felt sick when he thought of the fire and his dead friend. Only a week into school and he was already missing classes, hiding from the people he once saw as friends, or even from the people who once cowered when they saw him.  
To Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws he was an outcast for being the son of a Death Eater, for being a Death Eater himself. To Slytherins he was an outcast for switching sides, for renouncing the Dark Lord, and for praising the end of a war that the Slytherin purebloods seemed to feel had been ‘lost for the worse.’ And to Harry Potter, Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, the Chosen One, what was he? A pity case. Yes, Harry Potter was looking at him with pity, an emotion Draco would never have expected. Harry Potter’s pity mixed into the confusion left inside of the hollow Malfoy boy, filled his head with a sense of hurt pride and butterflies. Yes, butterflies.  
There were two things Draco was still certain of:  
One. He was not supposed to defy the Dark Lord or his father, but he had.  
Two. He was not supposed to fall in love with the Boy Who Lived, but he had.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco skip breakfast to talk about their feelings.

Harry Potter hadn’t had much time to think about his feelings in the past several years. He tried with Cho, but that was a disaster. And Ginny? Well... he couldn’t put his finger on it. Ginny was Ginny, she was Ron’s sister, she was beautiful and funny and caring, but...  
Something was missing. And he couldn’t figure out what it was.  
As they sat at breakfast on Friday, Ginny was droning on and on about Quidditch, about try-outs, about going to Hogsmeade, about this and that to the point that Harry felt himself let out a groan. “Ginny, I honestly haven’t heard a thing you’ve said for the last twelve minutes,” he mumbled, receiving a surprised look from Hermione, who was sitting across from him and beside Ron.  
“I was talking about Quidditch,” Ginny replied. “You’re kind of Quidditch Captain, you know? You should care.”  
“No offense, Ginny,” he could feel his voice raising as his chest tightened, “but considering that four months ago I was fighting Voldemort right where we’re sitting, I really don’t care about Quidditch.”  
“I thought it was life as normal?” Ginny asked quietly. “I thought that was what you wanted.”  
In truth, yes, Harry had told her that he wanted life as normal, but he didn’t really understand what a normal life was. Weeks of funerals, months of “are you okay” and “it’s all over now” and “how are you doing, Harry,” and he had thought what he wanted was normalcy. He told her life as normal, because the words he wanted were always in the back of his head. He couldn’t even talk about it to Hermione, or Ron. He couldn’t face them and say what he was thinking. “Life as normal,” he repeated quietly, before his voice rose slightly again, “I can’t think of Quidditch or dates or Hogsmeade right now. Not here. I’m sorry.”  
Ron looked sideways at Hermione as Harry stood up and walked away from the table, leaving his three friends in a stunned silence. He could feel all the eyes in the room staring at him. He threw open the doors of the Great Hall only to find himself face-to-face with icy eyes, white-blond hair, and a sharp, blank face. He felt pity for Malfoy, in a strange way. He felt his stomach jump as he saw the boy, but he let it fade fast. He bumped shoulders with the taller boy as he shoved passed him, and made his way towards the staircase.

xXx

Draco Malfoy hadn’t eaten for two days, and he was finally feeling the effects of hunger that forced him down to the Great Hall. What he hadn’t expected, however, was hearing someone yelling about the Dark Lord as he approached the doors. His feet felt like lead as he approached, slowly. He didn’t want to get caught in the middle of whatever was happening when the Dark Lord was being brought up.  
When he reached the door, he hesitated with his hands over the handles. He was considering turning around and maybe sneaking down to the kitchen to see if he could get some food from one of the House Elves, but didn’t have time to move before the heavy doors swung open and he found himself face-to-face with messy black hair and bright green eyes.  
He was taken aback, and before he could throw on a sneer or make a comment, he was being knocked back a step as the smaller boy shoved him out of his way. There was a continued silence in the Great Hall as thousands of eyes stared at Draco in the doorway, before it was broken by a thousand voices all at once. Draco’s eyes trailed over to the Gryffindor table, wondering if the Mudblood or one of the Weasels would go after Harry, but instead he saw them staying seated in a hushed conversation. He let out a long breath, before turning around and walking away from the Great Hall and his potential breakfast.  
He could see the dark hair heading towards the stairs, and he followed at a distance. He didn’t want to be seen, he just wanted to make sure Harry was okay. Harry shoved through groups of people walking down the staircases as he ran through, and Draco took a slower route in an attempt to avoid them, keeping Harry in sight the best he could.  
He followed the boy up seven flights, until he found himself in view of a familiar hallway, and a familiar door through which Harry disappeared, his breathing sharp and shallow. Draco took a deep breath, before jumping to grab the door’s handle before it could disappear.

xXx

The Room of Requirement was fairly small and empty, similar to what Draco found when he came here himself, but it was different, brighter, more comfortable. Instead of dark grey walls, it had mirrors, and a light hanging from the ceiling to illuminate the room. There wasn’t a window, but there was a fireplace in the wall, and a pair of worn-looking red armchairs. Draco regretted entering as soon as he did, but it was too late. The door shut softly behind him, and he found the black-haired boy turning around to face him. He looked absolutely horrified, and absolutely horrible, and Draco wanted to run up and hug him, but he knew he couldn’t.  
“Malfoy,” Harry said blankly, blinking his teary eyes and seemingly holding his breath in an attempt to make it seem less as though he had moments ago been fighting for each breath.  
“Potter,” was all Draco could manage in return, watching as the slightly younger boy seemed to crumble, falling into one of the armchairs. Draco didn’t know what to do as Harry shattered, didn’t know what could have triggered it, didn’t know how he could help someone who had thought of him as an enemy. “P-Potter?”  
Harry didn’t seem to be able to catch his breath as he stared at the mirrored wall beside the fireplace. Draco took a few steps closer, before stopping himself. “I’ve been coming here sometimes,” Draco said, not knowing what to do besides talking. “When I do, I think of what happened and,” he was looking into the fire, “and how you saved my life.” Was that when the final strings snapped and he admitted to himself that there was something besides hatred in him when he saw Harry? He wasn’t sure, but it was the moment that came to mind.  
“Happy that I saved someone.”  
“You saved a lot of people, actually.”  
Harry turned his head to look at Draco, his eyes narrowed behind his round glasses. “Why are you here?” he asked.  
“Well, Mudblood and the weasels were just continuing on with their breakfast.”  
“Since when do you care?”  
“You saved my life.”  
“Life as normal,” Harry said quietly.  
“My life can’t go back to normal,” Draco replied. “My father... I made mistakes.”  
“Mistakes? You were helping Voldemort.”  
“Yeah,” Draco finally dared to cross Harry and sit in the other armchair, “and what was I supposed to do when the Dark Lord held all of his meetings in my dining hall? Say, ‘sorry, my political views differ slightly and include less genocide’?”  
“You just called Hermione a Mudblood.”  
“Yeah, well, doesn’t mean I want her dead.”  
Harry looked into the mirror again. “Do you think about it a lot?”  
“I do,” Draco replied without hesitation. “And you?”  
“I try not to,” Harry admitted. Draco looked around the fireplace to Harry’s reflection, watching a tear trail down the darker boy’s face. “I can’t always help it.”  
“It’s not your fault, you know,” Draco said.  
“Your dad isn’t your fault either,” Harry countered.  
Draco was quiet for a moment, his eyes falling to the floor. “Why are you talking to me?” he asked, finally. It was unlike Harry, but he supposed that the war could change people. It changed him.  
“Hermione, Ginny and Ron stayed in the Great Hall,” Harry replied. “You’re not my first choice, Malfoy, but that’s the difference. You just gave up breakfast to follow your sworn enemy up seven floors and into a small room to talk about our feelings.”  
Draco chuckled ever so slightly. “Yeah, I guess. I just didn’t... well, I was worried you’d do something stupid if you were alone.”  
Harry looked sideways at him. “Stupid how?”  
“Well, I mean, I didn’t want you to get hurt or something. After all, there was kind of a whole battle based around your survival – ”  
“Exactly,” Harry replied. “We have to keep surviving, don’t we? We owe that to the people who died in that war.”  
“I guess so...” He felt his hand trail to his dark mark, his fingers digging into the pale, painted flesh.  
“You’re not – ”  
“No.” Draco said it firmly. It wasn’t a lie, just because he thought of things didn’t mean he’d done them or mean they needed to be brought up. Harry had seemed to breathe again, seemed to stop crying, so the blond stood up. “You’re better now. I have places to be.”  
And he was out the door before Harry could say another word.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeves the Poltergeist ships it.

Draco didn’t even look at Harry for the rest of the day. They passed in hallways and sat in the same row during classes, but he kept his head down and his mouth closed.  
What do you say to someone who you had just watched break, who you tried to help, who you want to help, because you maybe kind of have a crush on them when you know they don’t like you and you shouldn’t even maybe kind of have a crush on them?  
It wasn’t until that night, after dinner, when the Chosen One stopped him in the hallway and forced him into a conversation. “Look, Malfoy,” he said, pulling Draco behind a suit of armor near the staircase on the first floor, “earlier, could you just–”  
“– not talk about it? I can do that. In fact, that’s what I was doing before you decided that to even be seen speaking to me you needed to hide,” Draco sneered.  
“We’re not exactly friends, Malfoy.”  
Draco looked down at the shorter boy, scowling. “Yeah, some friends you have, though. Where are Mudblood and the Weasel, eh?”  
“I told them I needed to look for Ginny,” Harry replied. “And stop calling Hermione that. You may have been forgiven for what you did during the war, but that doesn’t excuse you being a jerk.”  
“Forgiven?!” Draco scoffed. “You call this forgiveness? I’m tolerated and punished for my parent’s sins as well as my own mistakes.”  
“Mistakes? You killed people –”  
“I did not kill anyone.”  
“You were working with Voldemort and you expect anyone to believe that?”  
“Don’t forget who refused to tell them who you were that day, Potter. Don’t forget whose wand you have. As I said before, what would you do if the Dark Lord was living in your house? Ask him to join you for tea while discussing your different political opinions?” Draco let his anger seep out with every word, but he kept finding himself focusing on those green eyes staring up at him, and that somehow made him angrier, until he was nearly yelling every word louder and more intensely. “I thought we covered this earlier? Or do you only practice this love and forgiveness and understanding that you preach about when you need someone to listen to your mental breakdowns?”  
He could feel eyes on them, but he was staring deep into the drops of green that lit up Harry’s face.  
“I just wanted to ask if we could talk more, you kind of left earlier.”  
Harry’s words rang hollow in Draco’s head, like he couldn’t comprehend them.  
“We’re the golden boys from different sides and I thought that counted for something.”  
Draco’s heart nearly beat out of his chest.  
“You seem to get it, somewhat.”  
Draco’s mouth must’ve dropped, and Harry looked up at him with a slightly taken aback look. Draco reached his hand out slightly, feeling the sudden urge to just touch Harry in the closeness, and was trying to form words when they heard a cackle above them and looked up to see Peeves the Poltergeist floating above the suit of armor. Before either boy could move, the suit of armor was thrown to the ground by the poltergeist, who cackled again as the two were exposed to onlookers exiting dinner.  
“Potty-wee-Potter and the traitor sitting in a tree,” Peeves sang out. Draco’s hand dropped to his side as he looked at all the people staring at them, “S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G. Potty’s got a boyfriend. What would Miss Ginny say?”  
Harry was staring at a spot on the staircase, and Draco followed his gaze, to see he was looking at Ginny Weasley with an apologetic look while receiving a look of anger and confusion in return. Draco backed away from Harry, bumping into a few second years before taking off into the dungeons. Harry swallowed, seemingly unable to move with all the eyes on him.

xXx

That night was the worst Draco had experienced since start of term. Every time he was seen someone would start singing at him.  
“Potter and Malfoy sitting in a tree, S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G!”  
Someone had drawn numerous copies of a stick-figure illustration to go along with the song and enchanted it, Draco kept finding it different places no matter what he did to the one he had already found, so he guessed someone was copying it and putting it everywhere. He couldn’t even sit in the common room to finish his homework. He soon found himself leaving the common room and heading up the stairs. He didn’t really know where he was going, walking aimlessly with his book bag hanging from his shoulder and hitting his thigh with every step.  
Before he knew what was happening, he found himself in front of the Room of Requirement, his hand turning the handle and walking into the dark room it always created for him. He let out a short breath and threw his book bag across the room. It was only then that he realized that the table which stood in the room was not its usual square elm, but a round mahogany with a black armchair on either side. Since start of term he had come here every day, and every day the room was the same, but he decided not to give it much thought. He sat down in one of the armchairs and found himself almost instantaneously asleep.

xXx

Draco woke up with the first beams of sunlight streaming through the window. He was curled up in the chair, a blanket draped over him that he didn’t recall covering himself with. He looked around the room and noticed the telescope had been dragged away from the window and the other armchair dragged closer. Someone had been in the room, he knew. He lit his wand with a whispered “Lumos” only to find the room void of any other human life. The sun continued rising on the horizon, filling the room with the dim sunlight until Draco decided to extinguish his wand. He sunk back into the armchair, leaning with his elbows on his knees, until he noticed a scrap of parchment left on the mahogany tabletop.

The room would be warmer with a fireplace, but I fancy the window. – H

Draco read the letters several times before he could process it. H? Harry? Well, of course it was Harry, who else would’ve been here? But why?  
Well, he supposed that Harry had to deal with taunting from the Gryffindors, too. Maybe he had come to escape them. Did the magic in the room somehow know Harry would come there, too? Was that why it produced two armchairs for Draco?  
He stared out the window, trying to think it over as the sun slowly rose and he slowly drifted back into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry stumbles upon a boy with blond hair illuminated in the moonlight.

Ginny was, Harry thought, rather calm about her boyfriend being called gay by almost everyone in school. She was also, he supposed, rather calm when Romilda Vane asked if they were beards, and if Ginny was secretly dating Luna Lovegood as well. She was also, he would say, justifiably pissed when Jimmy Peakes tripped a fourth year Ravenclaw boy on the stairs, so that he would fall down and straight into Harry’s face. (He did not touch Harry’s lips, but no matter how much Harry, Ginny and the Ravenclaw insisted of this, everyone else was laughing as though it were the funniest thing in the world.)  
By the time they got to the Common Room, it had apparently gotten back ahead of them, as Ron and Hermione immediately jumped into questioning what was going on.  
“Harry, for whatever reason,” Ginny started explaining, “was talking to Malfoy, and Peeves decided to call it something else.”  
“What about the Ravenclaw?” Hermione asked.  
“Peakes thought it’d be hilarious if he tripped a fifteen-year-old down a flight of stairs,” Harry replied tiredly as Jimmy walked by smirking.  
“You’d think they’d have some better things to laugh about,” Ron said, looking around the room. “Why’s it so amusing for them to talk about two blokes snogging? It’s bloody disgusting, actually.”  
Harry felt uncomfortable at Ron’s comment about it being disgusting, he couldn’t quite place why, but he shrugged. “Apparently we’ve just lost our sense of humor.”  
“What were you doing talking to Malfoy, anyway?” Hermione asked quietly, giving Harry a curious look.  
“It’s not important,” Harry replied. He didn’t want to tell her about their conversation in the Room of Requirement, didn’t even want to explain that it wasn’t anger that made him run out of breakfast.  
“HARRY AND MALFOY SITTING IN A TREE! S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G!”  
Harry cursed as a group of fourth and fifth years started chanting. “Can we just not talk about this right now?” he asked, clenching his fist.  
“We’re not going to be getting any sleep, mate,” Ron said. “Seamus and Dean are probably going to have a field day with this.” Harry shook his head and walked up to the boy’s dormitory. He knew Ron was right, he’d probably never hear the end of it here. He threw open his trunk and dug to the bottom, his hands finding the silky material of his invisibility cloak. He thought back to last year, to the Deathly Hallows, and he sighed as he stood up, letting the cloak unravel from the fold it was in at the bottom of the trunk. He turned around, letting the cloak drape from his hands to the floor. He kicked the lid of the trunk shut behind him and put the cloak on before walking down the stairs and out the portrait hole.  
He walked the halls, unsure what he was doing or where he was going, before he reached the Room of Requirements. He paced in front of it, the thought in his mind, I need a place to be. A place to think.  
The doors appeared in front of him and he slipped inside. He let the cloak slide from his body and pool around him on the floor. He was slightly thrown off by the room, taking it in slowly. The walls were grey and so was the floor, there was a window with a telescope looking out at the lake, the moon and stars shining in. There was a round mahogany table against the wall, two black armchairs, on either side of the table, faced the window. One armchair was draped with a blanket as black as the chair it was on, in the other, curled up and looking as though he were being tortured in his sleep, was a thin boy with white-blond hair and sharp feature that were even more illuminated in the moon light.  
Harry felt something pulling at his chest at the sight of Draco, and he took a step forward, frowning at Draco’s pained expression as he slept. He noticed Draco was shivering, and did consider that the room was awfully cold. He picked up the blanket and draped it across the boy. He caught sight of a leather book bag thrown in the floor and picked it up, looking for a quill and parchment. He didn’t intend to be caught here, but he would let Draco know that somebody was there. After digging through Draco’s books he finally found a small scrap of parchment, stained from something or other, and a fine quill and inkpot and scribbled a note to Draco in what he hoped was readable handwriting.

The room would be warmer with a fireplace, but I fancy the window. – H

He placed the parchment on the table, returned the ink and quill to the book bag, and sat down in the unoccupied armchair. He stared at the blond boy for a while, knowing that any moment he could wake up, but, for a reason he couldn’t quite figure, he didn’t want to leave him alone. As Draco’s pained expressions began to fade to calm, his breaths falling heavier as he went into a deeper sleep, Harry stood up and, quietly as he could, moved the telescope to an empty corner of the room and dragged his armchair to sit just to the side of the window and angled to look out at the stars and the lake. He supposed he dozed off at some point, awaken at sunrise by a gasp from Draco.  
He jumped up, worried that Draco had woken as well, only to find that the boy was still unconscious, but looked uncomfortable again and began to stir. Harry rushed across the room, his foot hooking on the edge of the chair and causing him to trip. He let out a noise that made Draco seem to jerk awake, barely leaving Harry enough time to get the invisibility cloak back on before Draco could notice him.  
He stood in the spot previously occupied by the armchair he had moved, a hand over his mouth to try to mask his breathing. Draco gained consciousness and looked surprised. He whispered “Lumos” and lit the room, before standing up and looking around. Harry didn’t know how long the boy stood in worry, before he finally happened across the parchment Harry had nearly forgotten leaving on the table. He read it several times, before sinking back into his armchair with what Harry thought was a smile on his lips.  
Draco’s blond hair was illuminated by the early morning rays of sunlight, making it seem less white and more golden, leaving a warm glow around him. His features seemed dazed and relaxed, the way they can only look when you feel safe yet totally vulnerable, when you think you’re alone or in a place of complete acceptance and delayed worries. Harry stayed and watched the boy as he drifted back to sleep. When he was sure that Draco would not be awakened again, he tiptoed to the door, not daring to cover the boy with the blanket he had dropped when he stood for fear of waking him up once more. As he exited the Room of Requirement, he looked back at the sleeping figure one more time, trying to determine exactly why his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies.  
The heavy doors shut quietly. Harry stood hidden in the hallway for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy gets a boyfriend who likes snogging a lot more than he does.

It had been a week since he had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement, and Draco and Harry were both seemingly making points of avoiding each other. Peeves still flew through the halls singing about their love and getting laughs from the students, but as the week progressed the jokes seemed to wear thin. Draco was back to just being ignored and only occasionally ridiculed for the traitor that he was.

          That was, until Sunday afternoon, when Draco found himself pressed up again the cracked tile wall of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, being held there by the firm grip and rough kiss of a seventh year Slytherin named Peter.

          Before Hogwarts was taken over the previous year, Peter would have been a year behind Draco. He had kept to himself, the only time Draco ever really noticed him was in Dueling club in his second year, so he was rather taken aback when the boy had approached him in the library and, instead of taunting him, had leaned down and whispered in his ear to follow him if he’d like to screw around. And next thing Draco knew, they were in the girl’s bathroom and Draco, being lighter and seemingly less experienced than the slightly younger boy, was soon against the wall almost unsure what to do as the boy’s tongue explored his mouth.

          His heart was pounding, he felt hot, barely able to breathe. As Draco shivered, Peter drew back, allowing Draco to let out a labored breath. Peter’s hands still held onto Draco’s forearms, keeping him against the wall. “You don’t do this often?” he asked. Draco shook his head, nervously. “So you _weren’t_ screwing around with Harry Potter?” Draco shook his head more violently. “Is this... is this your first time being with a boy?” Draco opened his mouth, going to bluff and say it wasn’t, but his voice seemed lost so he just nodded. Peter grinned. “I’m sorry,” he said carefully, “I should be gentler, shouldn’t I?” He released Draco’s forearms and leaned against the side of a cubicle, watching the blond for a long moment.

          “What?” Draco spat after a moment of catching his breath.

          “You and Potter, that’s not a thing?”

          Draco shook his head. “ _No_.”

          “But you _are_ gay?” Draco felt like his throat was swelling on that word. He wasn’t. His father would never allow that, never accept that, especially if what made him realize the possibility was Harry Potter. He wasn’t... He wasn’t... He couldn’t even think the word. His eyes must have shown what was going on in his head, because Peter ran a hand through his brown hair and took a step closer to him again.

          “It’s okay,” Peter said, his hands finding their way to Draco’s shoulders. “I won’t tell. You know about me, too, Malfoy.”

          Draco frowned when Peter called him Malfoy. Was that a proper way of addressing someone you just made out with for God knows how long?

          “The first Hogsmeade trip is next weekend,” Peter continued, seeming to either not notice or completely ignore Draco’s frown, “would you like to go with me? Like a date? We don’t have to go to Madame Pudifoot’s or anything. We could just go to the Three Broomsticks or the Hog’s Head or something, make it look like we’re just friends. You don’t have a lot of those, I can tell. Everyone kind of hates you, honestly.”

          Draco’s frown grew bigger at that. “Oh, but you don’t hate me?”

          “Of course not,” Peter had a sly look in his eye as he leaned closer and pecked Draco on the lips.

          “Okay.” But some part of Draco was imagining Harry pecking him on the lips, Harry putting his arms on his shoulders, Harry walking down the streets of Hogsmeade, hand-in-hand at his side.

          “Great,” Peter replied. He pressed Draco back against the wall, and Draco played along, still uncomfortable and unsure how to process what was going on and not completely comfortable because all he could think about was _what if this was Harry_. After a while, Peter grew tired and bid farewell with a nearly giddy, “See you around, Malfoy!”

          Draco found himself alone in the bathroom, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up against his chest, crying.

 

xXx

 

Draco did not speak to Peter again for two days, until he felt like someone was following him after Transfiguration and decided to dart into a secret passage on his way to lunch, only to find himself grabbed from behind and pushed against the wall with all the force of the stronger boy’s lips.

          “I couldn’t wait until Saturday to see you, Malfoy,” Peter had whispered, his hot breath blowing against Draco’s neck. Draco let out a slight squeaking noise, but didn’t attempt to push Peter away.

          In all truth, Draco liked not only the positive attention, but he also quite enjoyed the snogging. He did not quite know his feelings for Peter, but he knew that he enjoyed the snogging bit a lot more than he ever had with Pansy, at least sometimes, when Peter was being gentler and not smashing him into a wall with all the ferocity of a thousand dragon’s fire. And sometimes he could think of Harry and it made it feel nicer to imagine that Harry was the one snogging him. He knew he shouldn’t have enjoyed it, should’ve been repulsed, should’ve thrown the boy away and hexed him and shamed him and used his charm to talk one of the younger, more impressionable girls into looking past the disgrace that now was the Malfoy name, but as long as Peter was still keeping it a secret he didn’t see why he would do that.

          But when the snogging was done, and Peter left him in the secret passageway by himself, Draco found himself collapsed on the ground crying, again. And he didn’t know why and he didn’t like it.

          This happened again on Tuesday night after dinner in a broom cupboard in the dungeon, and again on Thursday in an empty classroom after Charms, and once more on Friday twenty yards into the Forbidden Forest after a Care Of Magical Creatures lesson. Draco didn’t quite enjoy that one, because Peter was getting rougher and didn’t want to talk and the tree Draco was being pushed into hurt his back and Draco thought that maybe sometimes he’d like to be the one pushing Peter up against things while he enjoyed the control of being the one doing most of the kissing. And when Peter was doing things that Draco didn’t like, he couldn’t pretend it was Harry.

          By the time Saturday and the trip to Hogsmeade rolled around, Draco wasn’t very much looking forward to his “date” with Peter. And to top it off, Harry was still seemingly avoiding him, not that he actively sought out the boy, the Slytherins still decided to give him hell any time they were bored, and the Room of Requirement seemed to mock him every night when he’d go there to work on homework.

          One of the black armchairs were now red, and the wall opposite the door now held a warm fireplace.

 

xXx

 

Draco sat with Peter in the Three Broomsticks, a butterbeer untouched in front of him as Peter drank from his own.

          “So, how are you enjoying classes?” Peter asked awkwardly.

          “Fine, I guess. We have the same classes.”

          “Right, right. I was just, y’know, making small talk.”

          Draco finally grabbed his butterbeer and took a sip. “Of course,” he replied. “What does your father do again?”

          “He’s an auror, actually.”

          “Oh.”

          “Yeah.” Peter looked down at his nearly empty pint. “He told me to stay away from you, because of your dad,” he downed what was left in it and set it down before shining Draco a charming smile, “but you see, what I figure is, if you can overlook my dad being an auror, I can overlook your dad being a Death Eater.”

          Just then, Draco caught sight of none other than Harry Potter, holding hands with Ginny Weasley, and followed by none other than the similarly intertwined Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, entering the vicinity. He met Harry’s green eyes for a moment and felt his heart pick up speed in his chest. He and the dark-haired boy stared for just a moment, long enough, however, that Draco was sure Harry was looking directly at him on purpose, before Harry turned his head to laugh at something Ginny was saying.

          “I was a Death Eater.” Draco wasn’t sure why he said it, but he did, and if it were to do any damage he knew it had already been done.

          “Yeah, but you’re cute. So I can overlook a stupid tattoo. Ever think of removing that?”

          “What?”

          “The tattoo.”

          “It doesn’t just... you can’t just take it off... it’s a really powerful spell –”

          “Force it off.”

          Draco’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

          “Force it off. There are spells that could do damage to you, get rid of it.” Peter was deadpan, Draco knew his eyes lit up in surprise because the younger boy erupted into laughter. “I’m only joking. Jesus, Malfoy. Lighten up.” Draco let out a shallow, uncomfortable chuckle. He looked across the room and saw green eyes staring at him again, and he met them. Peter seemed to notice Draco not paying attention to him and followed his gaze. Grimacing, he tossed down a galleon on the table and grabbed Draco’s hand.

          “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said, pulling the blond to his feet. “I don’t like the look the Mudblood-lover and his friends are giving you. You’re supposed to be all mine today, right?”

          Draco swallowed, before following Peter out of the Three Broomsticks.

 

xXx

 

Peter insisted that they should go back amongst their respective groups of friends (Draco noted that Peter only seemed to remember that most of the school disliked him when it was beneficial) and then return to the school separately after they had ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione, because he didn’t want anyone to get any ideas. So, he left Draco in an alley with instructions to count to sixty before following.

          When Draco finally stepped out into the Hogsmeade street, he found himself stumbling through a crowd of students, trying to force his way through. He felt someone shove him, causing him to trip on a hole in the cobblestone. He closed his eyes, sure he’d fall flat on his face, when he felt something catch him. Opening his eyes again, he once more met the bright green ones of none other than Harry Potter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's self-denial, a touch of acceptance, and then some snogging and that's all you really need to know.

If the Hogwarts rumor mill needed any more fuel, it was found in Harry Potter standing in the middle of a busy street in Hogsmeade, holding Draco Malfoy in his arms and staring into his eyes.  
Draco was mortified, but all he could find in Harry’s eyes was complete blankness and a hint of concern. After a heavy moment, Harry pulled Draco slightly so that he’d be on his feet, but somehow Draco’s hands ended up on Harry’s chest. He could feel the smaller boy’s heartbeat and it made his own skip. Once he processed that people were watching, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Peter included, he took a step back and blinked. Harry continued staring at him, his expression confusingly blank. Draco didn’t know what to do, so he decided to dart down a side street and never look back.  
He was not looking forward to being in the common room that night.

xXx

Something clicked in Harry’s head when he saw Draco falling. He considered himself lucky to be there to catch the boy. Feeling the light weight in his arms as Draco’s full weight leaned into him made his heart skip a beat. And he thought he was beginning to understand why.  
He set the boy down on his feet and found the taller boy’s hands on his chest. He looked up into the icy eyes, unsure what to say or do because his stomach felt funny and he didn’t want to move. When Draco finally realized that people were watching him, he moved away and took off down a different street. Harry wanted to go after him, but Ginny was now standing at his side with her hand wrapped around his and he couldn’t move his feet.  
“Let’s go,” she said, tugging him up the road with Hermione and Ron close behind.

xXx

Draco didn’t even go into the Great Hall that evening, he expected the worst these days, and quite frankly he was too exhausted to deal with it. He roamed the nearly-empty halls for a while, before finally making his way upstairs and into the familiar corridor that housed the Room of Requirement.  
The room was very similar to the night Harry had snuck in and found Draco asleep, except for the armchair nearest the door which was now the Gryffindor shade of red, and the wall opposite the door had a fireplace built into it. Draco didn’t like the fire, but it was always roaring when he came in and he had to extinguish it.  
He had to admit, though, that Harry was correct in saying the room was warmer with it. He had spent a few nights sleeping there, and that was the only time he would leave the fire ablaze.  
Draco entered the room and set his book bag down on the floor, leaning it against the leg of the telescope. He extinguished the fire, ran a hand through his hair and crossed to the black armchair, sitting down in it and staring down the window. He stomach growled, but he ignored it. He was not going downstairs, he did not have the energy to pester the House Elves, and he worried that if he left the room and asked it to give him food, when he returned it may be different. Maybe it wouldn’t have Harry’s chair, he guessed the chair was the kind that sat in Gryffindor tower, and he wanted it to stay there.  
He wasn’t sure how long he stared out the window, watching the sun set over the lake, when the door flew open and shut in a quick movement, and Harry appeared in front of it with his Invisibility cloak falling to the ground. Draco blinked, taken aback by the sudden appearance of someone who’d been avoiding him for a week.  
Harry looked uncomfortable, unsure what to say. “You weren’t at dinner.”  
Draco stared at him blankly. Why was he noticing when he didn’t show up for dinner? Why did he care? “I... I lose my appetite when I go anyway.”  
“When you fell earlier, you’re really light. Have you been eating?”  
Draco frowned. “Yes.”  
“Really?”  
Draco made a noise in reply.  
Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out two scones. “I know it’s not much, but I thought you might be hungry.” He set them on the table, each movement he made seemed awkward and measured.  
Draco was taken aback by the kindness. “Thank you,” he said carefully. Harry stood back, watching him, but Draco didn’t move to pick up the food.  
“It’s cold in here,” Harry said after a moment. If he noticed the red armchair, he didn’t mention it. He walked passed Draco, as though he were used to the room, and straight to the fireplace. He flicked his wand at the logs Draco had extinguished, muttering, “Incendio.” The logs exploded with flames, and Draco couldn’t help but flinch slightly. Harry’s back was to him, looking at the fire as he pocketed his wand. “Do you come here a lot?” he asked.  
“Increasingly.”  
“Do you bring that guy you had at the Three Broomsticks?”  
“No, God. You think that was what – a date? It wasn’t. You sound jealous, Potter?” His voice was void of the venom that normally would’ve gone into that statement. He didn’t even know why he said it, he immediately regretted it.  
“No. I have Ginny.”  
Draco rolled his eyes. “Trust me, everybody knows.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry turned around to look at Draco.  
“Well, the girl’s been in love with you since she started school. It’s no secret. Quite honestly it’s a bit annoying, watching the way she looks at you.”  
“What about the way you look at me?”  
Draco swallowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
Harry crossed the room, moving to stand by the window and look outside. “Look, I didn’t notice at first, but Ginny sees it.”  
“Sees what? You’re mad.”  
“The way you look, Draco.” Draco couldn’t help but think how nice it was to hear Harry say his name, before he caught himself and cursed in his head. “I didn’t notice at first, but I notice now.”  
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”  
“The way you look at me,” Harry turned around to look at Draco again, clearly getting frustrated. “It’s how Hermione looked at Ron when he was dating Lavender.”  
“What are you trying to imply, Potter?” Draco was on his feet now, too, trying his best to look offended and angry even though he knew what Harry was getting at and maybe wanted someone other than Peter to say it.  
“I...” Harry seemed to falter. “I’m... Draco do you... are you... Screw it –”  
And with that Harry had stepped forward, his hands on Draco’s neck as he pressed their lips together, standing on his tiptoes to reach the taller boy’s lips. Draco was shocked for a moment, his eyes opened and his hands hanging limply at his sides, before he comprehended what was happening. His arms wrapped around Harry, one hand on the back of Harry’s neck and the other on the small of his back, holding him as close as he could.  
It wasn’t a rough kiss like when Peter kissed him. Harry was soft, and warm, and gentle, and vulnerable just like Draco was. Harry didn’t try to force his tongue into Draco’s mouth and every movement was slow and careful and Draco could feel a million butterflies exploding in his stomach as he kissed the smaller boy. He may have stood there for one second or a million, but when their lips finally broke apart, all Draco could do was look down into Harry’s green eyes, his own icy ones tearing up. Harry was looking up at him, seeming to be in shock with his own actions. Neither boy tried to move away from the other for a long moment, until Draco felt the tears begin spilling down his cheeks and he stepped back and turned around, facing the corner just to avoid looking into those green eyes any longer.  
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.  
“I’m not gay.” Draco said it louder than he meant to, nearly yelling. It was followed by a long pause before Harry spoke again.  
“Okay.”  
“You shouldn’t have done that, Potter.”  
“Okay.”  
“Don’t ever touch me again.”  
“If that’s what you want.”  
Another long pause.  
“Are you crying, Draco?”  
“Go away.”  
“Draco...” Harry stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
“I SAID GO AWAY.”  
Harry didn’t move. “Draco, it’s okay, you know?”  
“You don’t understand.”  
“Draco –”  
“I’m not gay.”  
“Okay, you’re not gay. Why are you crying?”  
“I’m not crying. Screw off.”  
“Draco, I’m trying to help.”  
Draco turned to face Harry, ready to yell and scream, but he saw that pair of green eyes staring up at him, and he broke. His breaths caught in his chest, his heart pounding. “You don’t understand, Harry.”  
“I’m trying to.”  
Draco shook his head. “Why did you have to go and do that?”  
“I just... I hadn’t noticed it before. I hadn’t noticed you before. I never had time to think about it. But I realized something – I’d quite like to notice you a lot more.”  
Draco still had hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry didn’t understand. This wasn’t okay. The Malfoy name was fallen enough without him being... being... without him falling in love with Harry Potter. And he knew that his father was not going to be happy hearing about this.  
“You have a girlfriend,” was all Draco could think of to say. An obvious fact that he was quite sure Harry didn’t care about, considering he just kissed him.  
“Maybe I don’t want a girlfriend.”  
“But you have one.”  
“I suppose I do.”  
“This isn’t happening.” Draco moved to walk passed Harry and to the door, but he was stopped by Harry saying, “Wait,” and sticking out his arm to stop him. He turned to tell Harry once more to screw off, but his words were stopped by Harry’s lips pressing onto his again, and he knew that this time he was making the choice in accepting Harry or pushing him away and giving up this opportunity at happiness.  
He chose the former.  
It was only a moment before Draco had stumbled backward into the red armchair, Harry’s lips still moving with his own. Harry sat in Draco’s lap, his kiss becoming sloppy as his hands ran through Draco’s hair. Draco held the smaller boy in his arms, his hands tracing Harry’s spine as they snogged, all fear and tears forgotten.

xXx

When they finally started getting tired, they didn’t move except for Harry to fall sideways against Draco’s chest, his head resting between Draco’s neck and shoulder. They were both breathing heavy, Draco’s arms still wrapped around Harry and Harry’s hand over Draco’s heart, feeling the beating.  
“That just happened,” Draco said blankly.  
“Yeah.” Harry was worried. He didn’t want Draco to start crying again, and he didn’t want Draco to look scared again, because he didn’t know how to make Draco happy and he didn’t know what Draco was scared of yet. He just wanted Draco to want this to be happening, as he had suspected he did.  
Draco let his head droop against Harry’s, not saying a word as they both drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has reached the point it was posted to on Fanfiction.net so it'll probably be updated less frequently from now on sorry.
> 
> BUT! Since I'm still writing you guys can give me feedback on what you'd like to see so I mean, there's a pro right there.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides to talk to Draco.

Draco woke up first the next morning. It was the first night he’d slept well with no nightmares in a long time.

          “Harry,” he said quietly. “Harry, wake up.”

          The smaller boy’s eyes fluttered open and he seemed to take in where they were for a moment, before sitting upright, still in Draco’s lap. “Whatime’sit?” he mumbled. Draco couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from turning up at the sight of the messy hair, askew glasses, and mumbled words of the boy.

          “I dunno. I just woke up,” he replied. Harry fixed his glasses and looked out the window before looking at his watch.

          “We’re late for breakfast,” he said, heading towards the door.

          “Harry –”

          “I’ll see you later.” And then he was gone. Draco groaned, before he saw the shimmering fabric on the floor. He picked up the invisibility cloak and let it trail against his fingers. Harry didn’t just leave this thing lying around. He wondered if it’d still be here if he left it in the Room of Requirement, but decided it was safer to pocket it until he could return it to the other boy.

 

xXx

 

Harry’s mind raced almost as fast as his feet did on their way downstairs. Ron would have noticed he didn’t come back last night. Hermione would ask questions. Ginny would – Ginny! What was he supposed to say to her? How could he look her in the eye after he and Draco had –

          His thoughts were cut off as he made it to the Great Hall and slid into a seat beside Hermione.

          “Good morning,” she said. “Where’ve you been?”

          Harry looked around uncomfortably. Ron and Ginny were nowhere in sight, in fact the Great Hall was mostly empty. A rather large library book sat in front of Hermione, but she had turned her focus on Harry. “I was erm...”

          What was he supposed to say? ‘Hi, Hermione. Yeah, I was just upstairs snogging our school rival and avoiding my girlfriend.’ That wasn’t going to work.

          “Hermione, do you think Malfoy is gay?”

          He didn’t know why those words came out of his mouth. _Why_ did those words come out of his mouth? Hermione looked nearly as taken aback as he was with himself.

          “I-I, well, I don’t know. Is this to do with that stupid rumor that Peeves started about you two?”

          “Hermione,” Harry said quietly, “did you see him with that guy in Hogsmeade? Do you think that was something?”

          _What was he doing_? Throwing Draco under the bus to try to avoid confronting his own actions, he guessed. He was thankful that they were mostly alone in the Great Hall, able to talk quietly without being overheard or interrupted.

          “Well, I mean, there have been instances in the past where it’s been a thought that’s crossed my mind, but then he was with Pansy. Why?”

          “Well, do you think someone could like boys _and_ girls?”

          “I guess so, I don’t really know. At this point, though, Harry, after a war filled with so much hatred I don’t think any of it really matters. The world could use some more love in it, no matter what kind of love it is.”

          “Hermione.” Harry’s throat seemed to close up. His mind raced with questioning if he should tell her or not.

          “Harry?” she looked worried. Curious, but worried.

          “Can we not mention this conversation to anyone else?”

          “O-of course,” Hermione replied. “You know you’re my best friend, don’t you Harry?”

          “Yeah, of course. You’re mine as well.”

          “Then you know that if you ever want to talk about anything, anything at all, you can come to me.”

          “I know, ’Mione. We should get to class, yeah?”

          “Yeah, but you didn’t eat –”

          “I’m fine, let’s go before we’re late.”

 

xXx

 

Draco caught himself baring a small smile as he made his way through the day. He had a strange hope in the back of his mind to accompany his dread, he stepped more slowly through the hallways as he stayed in thought, thinking about the messy black hair running through his fingers, the green eyes staring into his whenever they’d broke apart for breath, the shorter boy resting in his arms.

          “Malfoy.” He was sitting in the library, a book open but he wasn’t reading from it, he was staring out the window and thinking about how the trees of the forest weren’t as green as Harry’s eyes. He was jolted back into reality by the harsh voice saying his name and a heavy book slamming down on the table. “Malfoy!”

          He looked up to find himself eye-to-eye with Hermione Granger. He gulped. She looked different this year, her hair was less frizzy and she carried herself in a manor he thought was less calculated, less purposeful. He hadn’t the slightest idea why she would even speak in his direction, let alone come up to his study table and – she was sitting down. He felt his jaw drop slightly. “Erm... What d’you want, Mud – Hermione?”

          Hermione looked slightly taken aback when he stopped himself from using the slur, but she seemed to brush it off as she folded her hands on top of the huge, old book she had slammed onto the table. “I said I wanted to ask you something,” she said. She reached up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, avoiding looking at Draco.

          “And that would be?” He was trying his best not to sneer, after all Hermione was Harry’s best friend, wasn’t she? So he needed to be nice. But no matter how many times he told himself that he could feel the venom in his own words.

          “Well, you see, Harry’s been really off since... since May, you know? Well, I was just wondering if he’s said anything to you.” She finally looked up into Draco’s face and he could see the worry in her eyes.

          “Has he – why would he say anything to me?” Draco asked. “Isn’t taking care of him you and Weasley’s job?”

          Hermione let out a sigh. “I just thought...”

          “Spit it out.”

          “He, well, Draco, he asked me today if I thought you were... erm...”

          Draco’s heart nearly skipped a beat. “Out with it!”

          “... Well, he’s just been so distant from Ginny as well. I thought maybe he had talked to you.”

          “Why would he talk to me? We hate each other.” Draco pretended to be engrossed in his book again, keeping his face as blank as he could.

          Hermione furrowed her brow. “Harry doesn’t hate you. In fact, he’s asked a lot of people to be nice to you. You should’ve seen him getting onto Justin Finch-Fletchley after they saw you at the Welcome Feast.”

          Draco looked up, he could feel one corner of his mouth upturn in a grin. “Really?”

          “Yes,” Hermione replied. “Look, has Harry said anything to you or not?”

          Draco shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t worry,” he replied, “he’s going to be alright.”

          “He _has_ been talking to you!”

          “Yeah, he has. And he’ll be okay. You know, Granger, as worried as you are about him you could maybe go after him when he gets upset. You’re very intelligent, I’m sure it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.”

          Hermione looked flustered when the Slytherin called her intelligent. It wasn’t that she didn’t know she was, but moreso she never thought a Slytherin would ever admit it. “I’ve noticed, but I have to take care of Ron, too. And Harry is so distant all the time. I try to ask him what’s wrong, and he just gives the answers he thinks we want to hear. Doesn’t want to be a ‘burden’.”

          “He’s _so thick_ ,” Draco rolled his eyes.

          “Yeah, anyway. Thank you, for talking to him. I didn’t stand by Harry before when he stood up for you, but I think I was wrong.”

          “That’ll be a first, won’t it?” Draco replied sarcastically, trying to maintain his demeanor.

          Hermione half-chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose so. I’ll see you around.” She stood, picked up her book, and walked away before another word could be said. Draco released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in, falling back in his seat. He quietly looked out the window for several more minutes before the sun began to set and he finally collected his belongings and left the library.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Ron, Seamus, and Dean discuss Drarry in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of her age, she could decipher ancient runes and pass her O.W.L.s with flying colors, but when it came to Harry Potter she was stumped.

          He barely ate, he barely slept, he looked uncomfortable around his own girlfriend, didn’t talk to his best friends, and now he was hanging around with their once rival Malfoy? She mulled over whether or not to bring it up to her own boyfriend as they sat in the common room that night. She sat beside Ron with her nose in a book though she hardly read a word from the page. Ron was preoccupied playing a game of chess against Dean Thomas, while Seamus Finnigan watched and cheered Dean on.

          “Queen to E5.” Dean let out an expletive as Ron grinned. “That’ll be checkmate, Thomas.”

          “Why do I still put myself through this humiliation?” Dean asked.

          Hermione peered over her book. Seamus was picking through a package of Every Flavor Beans as Ron and Dean debated whether to play another round or work on their essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. She glanced sideways to her boyfriend, smiling at the grin plastered on his face from his victory over their classmate.

          “Oi,” Seamus said after a moment, finally looking away from his pursuit for a jelly bean that wasn’t the flavor of vomit, “where’s Harry? I haven’t seen him around the common room lately.”

          Hermione returned her glance to Ron, who shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “He’s been avoiding Gin. Been in a bit of a foul mood since the Peeves incident.”

          “People just won’t let it go, will they?” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Even if Harry and Malfoy were dating, who’d care? We just had an effing war, didn’t we? Maybe it’d be good to show inter-house relationships.”

          “Yeah, but,” Ron had begun setting up the chess set for another round as he spoke, “Draco and Harry? Wouldn’t it, uh, be better suited if it were... erm, you and Pansy Parkinson?”

          Seamus hooted with laughter as he nearly fell off his chair. Dean looked absolutely disgusted at Ron’s suggestion. “No,” he said nearly offended, “actually I’m seeing someone, and I don’t think Parkinson would be a good match for me.”

          “ _Who’re you seeing_?!” Ron demanded. Hermione was watching the exchange with little curiosity. Seamus was quiet now, readjusting himself on the arm of Dean’s chair.

          “I’m seeing someone who’s none of your business,” Dean replied. “My point is, I think Harry and Draco could be good for each other – whether they’re dating or just being friends. Be a good influence on the first years to not buy into the all Slytherins are evil prats, y’know?”

          “But they’re both... well, they’re both boys.” Ron looked uncomfortable as he said it. Hermione frowned, while Dean and Seamus exchanged equally uncomfortable looks.

          “So?” she asked.

          “Well, I just mean, erm... Hermione, that’s not normal.”

          “It’s perfectly normal,” Hermione replied. “And if Harry dated Draco we would be totally accepting of him, because he’s our best friend.”

          Ron furrowed his brow. “Well, I’m not saying I’d not ever speak to him again. Just it’d take some getting used to, you know? And of all people, _Malfoy_? He’s not even friends with Malfoy.”

          “Well,” Hermione started, trying to decide what information would be okay to tell the ginger, as well as their two friends.

          “Well what?” Ron asked, looking at his girlfriend with the curiosity that always colored his face when he didn’t follow a conversation.

          “Well, he’s spoken to Malfoy recently. I think they’re trying to be friends.”

          “I’m still team Drarry,” Seamus said, tossing another jelly bean into his mouth.

          “Team ‘Drarry’?” Hermione asked.

          “It’s what some of the fourth years started calling Harry and Draco as a couple,” Dean explained. “It’s stupid. It would be cute though. They’re total opposites.” Just then Ron finished setting up the chess board and the two began playing again.

          “What? Like, people who want them to date?” Hermione questioned.

          “Yeah, and some who don’t I guess,” Dean replied.

          “He’d have to break up with Ginny first, though, if they were going to,” Seamus said.

          “And we all know that’s not going to happen,” Dean added.

          “Never,” Seamus agreed.

          “Why not?” Hermione asked, thinking back to that morning’s breakfast as she stared at Dean and Seamus with wide eyes.

          “Well, he’s right scared of hurting her,” Seamus said, “can’t you tell?”

          “You guys are unbelievable,” Ron said with a breath, before moving one of his pawns.

          “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this,” Hermione said to fill the gap as Dean debated his move in the game. “I kind of feel like we’re gossiping behind his back.”

          “That’s because that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Seamus joked. “Dean, no! He’s going to capture you there!”

          Hermione returned to her book as the boys returned focus to the chess game. Just as Ron made the capture that Seamus predicted, the portrait hole opened and Harry and Ginny came in, faces red and voices raised as onlookers stopped their studying, hushed conversations and games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sorry for a wee bit of a boring chapter. Yes that was implied Dean/Seamus.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry confesses to Ginny. Ginny, understandably, doesn't take it well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a little while since I've updated. Started my last year of high school last week and I've had rehearsal recently.

Ginny was looking through library books, Harry sitting on the desk beside her. He watched her, trying to figure out what it was, when it had happened, why he looked at her like he looked at Hermione now, instead of the way he had looked at her back in sixth year.

          “What is it?” Ginny asked, snapping Harry out of his trance. She had lowered her arms away from the high shelves, holding a book against her chest and looking at her boyfriend.

          “Nothing,” Harry replied, shaking his head.

          “You’re acting really weird lately,” Ginny commented after a lengthy pause. “Harry, you know you can talk to me, right? I know that everything was hard on you, but you can talk to me. I want to listen, I want to help you.” She stepped forward and slid the book onto the desk beside Harry, reaching out and taking his hands in her own.

          “Ginny,” Harry barely let the word leave his lips. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to tell her that she really didn’t understand, she really wasn’t the person he felt like talking to? He was just _so tired_ , and he didn’t want to tell her that.

          “Harry,” Ginny countered, her voice soft and worried. Harry frowned, she looked so sad, and he didn’t like Ginny looking sad. In it all, he wanted her happy, regardless of what happened. She deserved it. “Harry, you’ve been so distant. Where were you last night? I looked for you. Tell me the truth, please?”

          Harry hesitated. “I was in the Room of Requirement.” He felt a drop in his stomach. He shouldn’t have told her where. That was Malfoy’s secret, not his.

          “Who with?”

          “What?”

          “Who were you with, Harry? Was it Hannah? Or Parvati?”

          “No, Ginny, why are you –”

          “You were with someone, Harry. Weren’t you?”

          “Ginny,” Harry felt his heart dropping. “Ginny, I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t mean for it to be like that, it just... it just happened. I was going to tell you.”

          “Who was she?”

          “No, Ginny, it wasn’t... it wasn’t a she...”

          Ginny looked confused for a moment, before realization crossed her face. “Are you serious?” Her hands dropped his and she stepped back, looking disgusted. “Malfoy?”

          “Ginny.”

          “You cheated on me with _Malfoy_.”

          “No.”

          “ _Harry_.”

          “Look, I didn’t have the intention to cheat on you, Ginny. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I don’t know what’s going on or what this is or –”

          “YOU’RE GAY!?”

          “Ginny! Ginny, shush. No, I’m not gay.” Harry stood up now as well, trying to hush the ginger.

          “OH MY GOD! Harry! For _Malfoy_?”

          “Ginny, please. Please, listen to me.” But she was taking off out of the library, and Harry was following her as best he could, trying to call after her that he could fix this and it would be okay and he really did love her, but his words seemed to go straight in one ear and out the other.

 

xXx

 

Hermione Granger was curled up on the couch beside her boyfriend, her nose in a book. Ron was playing a game of chess against Dean, and Seamus was perched on the arm of Dean’s chair, cheering him on. The common room was filled with the dull buzz of students’ conversations and games and studying, but it all fell silent as the portrait hole burst open and the quarrelling couple stormed in.

          “NONE OF THIS IS OKAY, HARRY!”

          “I’M SORRY!”

          “SORRY DOESN’T FIX THIS!”

          Harry took a step closer to Ginny, his Ginny, Ron’s baby sister, the girl he had fought so hard for, and put his hands on her forearms as gently as he could. “Then tell me how to fix this.”

          “I don’t know how,” she replied, quieter, slapping his arms away from her. She looked around the room, at the hushed silence and staring face. “What’re you gawking at?” she snapped at Dean.

          “Nothing,” Dean replied, shrugging slightly and looking down at the abandoned chess game, trying to seem occupied. The rest of the room returned to their previous buzz, though it seemed more hushed.

          “Ginny, would you listen to me?” Harry begged. “It won’t happen again –”

          “Go tell that to your boyfriend,” Ginny whispered. And before Harry could say another word, she had ran up to the girl’s dormitories.

          “What was that about?” Seamus questioned. Harry turned to look at his friends.

          “She, uh,” he didn’t know what to say. _She found out I cheated on her with Malfoy_ just didn’t feel like the right words to blurt out in a room full of people. “We broke up.”

          Ron’s mouth fell, and Hermione eyed Harry with an uneasy suspicion. “What did you do that for?” Ron demanded.

          “I...” Harry didn’t know what to say. He knew Ron was going to be mad either way, no matter what words came out of his mouth. After all, Ginny was his baby sister. He’d forgive Harry, like he had Dean, but it was going to take time.

          “Harry, is this about what we discussed at breakfast?”

          Harry met Hermione’s eyes, unsure of what to say or do. Slowly, he nodded. Hermione nodded back, the look in her eyes telling him that it’s okay, she opened her mouth as though to speak when Ron interrupted her. “What did you two talk about at breakfast?” he demanded.

          “It doesn’t matter now,” Hermione replied. “Finish your chess game, Ronald. I’m going to go check on Ginny. Harry, don’t go to bed until we’ve talked, alright?”

          Numbly, Harry nodded his head. Hermione walked off up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory, and Ron immediately turned on Harry. “What did you two discuss at breakfast?” he demanded again. Harry just shrugged and shook his head. He stalked across the room, sitting down by the window with his face pressed against the pane of glass.

          “Just leave him alone, mate,” Dean was saying to Ron. “I know you’re mad but it’s not worth a fight.”

          Harry closed his eyes and stayed against the window. At some point the room’s buzz began to dim, and he began to slip into unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry I haven't updated in forever, I was dealing with a lot of stuff and life got the better of me. x_x But I shall try to continue much more frequent updates from now on, should anyone still read this. Good day to all of you.

When Harry woke up he was drenched in a cold sweat, his messy hair damply stuck to his forehead. Hermione was shaking him awake, but he woke up with a frightened gasp.

          “Are you okay?” Hermione asked, looking down at him with concern. The common room was dark, and appeared to be empty beside Hermione and Harry.

          “I-I...” Harry looked around, pulling himself into a proper sitting position. He wasn’t even sure what he had been dreaming, just that it had been bad. He looked around the room to make sure they were truly alone, before looking back at Hermione and asking, “Is Ginny okay?”

          “She’s pretty angry, but she’s not going to tell anyone what you two fought about. She says she would like if you didn’t try to talk to her for a few weeks while she tries to work it all out for herself,” Hermione replied. She sat down next to her best friend, her face seemingly vacant and hard to read in that Hermione way that Harry often noticed came about when she was thinking.

          “So,” Hermione said, “you’re gay?”

          Harry shook his head. “I don’t know, ’Mione,” he told her, “I love Ginny, she’s one of my favorite people, I’m just not in love with her. But I was, back in sixth year. I really was.”

          “But now you like Malfoy?” Hermione asked. Harry avoided her eyes.

          “He’s different now.”

          “I know. I talked to him.”

          “You what?”

          “You were being weird at breakfast, so I talked to him. He’s different; Harry, we’re all different now.”

          Harry looked over at her. “I love you, Hermione.”

          “I love you too, Harry. And whatever happens, whatever this is, I’ll be there for you.”  She pulled the boy into a hug, and they stayed there for a moment before they broke apart. “Go back to sleep,” Hermione commanded, “I’ll see you at breakfast.” Harry nodded, standing up and pulling the older girl to her feet beside him. “Goodnight, Harry.” She disappeared up the staircase and Harry frowned, before going up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.

 

xXx

 

At breakfast, Harry sat by himself near the back of the table. He barely spoke to anyone, barely gave anyone a second look. Ginny sat with Ron, Dean, and Seamus on the opposite end of the table. Hermione was nowhere in sight. Harry had stopped for a moment to look at Ginny, she looked like she always did. Happy, even. She gave him a small wave before continuing to ignore him. He noticed Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table today, but he didn’t acknowledge the other boy, didn’t want to make things harder.

 

xXx

 

When he next saw Hermione, her hand was intertwined with Ron’s, who was not speaking to Harry. She gave him an apologetic look as she joined Ron at their table in potions class. Harry had been sitting with Ginny, but he was now sitting beside Neville Longbottom, who was attempting to bring up anything other than the fact that Ginny had stolen his seat.

 

xXx

 

On the way out of the dungeons to meet the Ravenclaws for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Peeves began a rousing chorus of ‘Harry and Draco Sitting In A Tree’ amongst the students. Ginny ignored it, hurrying up the stairs, but Harry saw a sickly thin blond figure staring across the room at him, and met the blond’s eyes for just a moment before the vanished seemingly into thin air. He hadn’t noticed how thin Draco was getting, and it was beginning to worry him.

 

xXx

 

Defense Against the Dark Arts was now being taught by a short, old wizard named Professor Biggle. He was constantly wearing vomit-green robes and often mentioned his search for mosquito-flavored Bertie Bott’s Beans, but he otherwise seemed unlikely to be a homicidal maniac sadist, and so the students didn’t mind.

          However, he didn’t seem to notice or care about the Ravenclaws whispering Peeves’ song, among other words, in Harry’s direction.

 

xXx

 

When Harry approached the Room of Requirement that night, he knew that if Draco had had half the day he had, he would need somebody. And he was happy to be that somebody. When he entered the room, he saw Draco sitting in the red armchair, his legs pulled up to his chest as he hugged them and looked out the window.

          “Hey,” Harry said.

          Draco looked up. “Hi. I heard you broke up with the Weasel.”

          “It was kind of the other way around.”

          “I hope it wasn’t to do with me.”

          The blond still stared out the window, Harry only seeing his silhouetted side. “Maybe it was.”

          Draco slid his legs to the floor and began to stand up. His movements were slow as he stood, he turned to face the shorter boy, showing him a blackened eye and a split lip. Harry’s heart skipped a beat, but before he could speak, Draco did. “You should go, Harry.”

          “Draco, what happened?”

          “Nothing compared to what’s going to happen if news of _p_ recious Harry _P_ otter breaking up with his precious Weasley for a Death Eater made it to my father.” His voice was cold and cruel and mean in a way Harry had never heard it before.

          “Draco?”

          “Just go. You don’t need to be here.”

          “Who did this?”

          Draco turned away and reached against the table that separated the two armchairs. He picked up Harry’s invisibility cloak and thrust it into Harry’s arms. “Take your cloak, and go. Now.”

          “Draco. No.” Harry shook his head and walked passed Draco to return the cloak to the table. He reached up to touch Draco’s face, but the blond grabbed his wrists.

          “I said go,” Draco said coldly. Every one of his features seemed to display anger, but Harry looked into his icy eyes, and he could see tears building up and feel the fear in them.

          “Draco,” Harry said quietly, “please tell me who hurt you?”

          “He got mad,” Draco said, tear spilling out of the corner of his eye. He was still holding onto Harry’s wrists, his face still in a confused state of anger and worry, but he was meeting Harry’s eyes. “He said that if he ever found out we’d done anything he’d be mad. I wasn’t supposed to lie to him, I lied to him.”

          “Draco, what’re you rambling about?” Harry asked, carefully. “Who told you that?”

          “Peter.”

          “Peter? That guy you were with in Hogsmeade?”

          Draco nodded, the anger draining from his face and leaving it blank. “I lied,” he repeated.

          And then it dawned at Harry that this was what Draco was used to. The boy had followed Voldemort, he was used to ridiculous punishments being forced onto people. Hell, his father was a Death Eater, who knew what they did to their kids. “Draco, can you let go of my wrists, please?” He tried to hide the fact that Draco’s fingernails were digging painfully into his skin.

          “Huh?” Draco looked down at his hands, like he hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto Harry. He dropped his hands and looked down at the red marks they left behind on Harry’s skin. “Oh, Merlin. I’m sorry, I hurt you.”

          “It’s fine, Draco,” Harry said, worriedly. He reached up to put his hands on the sides of Draco’s face. “It’s okay.”

          “Okay,” the blond repeated. Harry pulled Draco’s head down and their lips touched. Draco fell against Harry, which from his height would normally have left the shorter boy stumbling for support of some kind, but with Draco’s current weight he held the boy up with ease.

           “You should go see Madam Pomfrey about your face.”

          Draco tensed. He took several steps away from Harry and shook his head. “I lied, that’s why he hit me.” He sounded confused, questioning. Why would he go to Madam Pomfrey for that?

          “He doesn’t get to do that, Draco,” Harry said. “Nobody gets to do that.” He knew, he’d put up with years of it at the Dursleys’. He didn’t want Draco putting up with anyone hitting him.

          Draco searched Harry’s face, looking as though he expected the boy to yell ‘got you!’ at any given moment. “He got mad,” Draco repeated. “He doesn’t want you to talk to me anymore.”

          “Break up with him?” Harry asked.

          “I can’t.”

          “Draco, the other night... You like me, don’t you?”

          “Yes.”

          “Me and Ginny broke up, so that I could come here tonight and tell you that I like you without an ounce of guilt. All I’m asking is that if you want to make this work, just do the same.”

          Draco shook his head. “It’s not that easy, Potter. I have an image to uphold. My father –”

          “Do you really care what your dad thinks?”

          Draco scowled. “You don’t understand,” Draco replied.

          “He doesn’t know about the Room of Requirement, does he?” Harry asked.

          “Well,” Draco said nervously, “no. No, he doesn’t.”

          “Nor does Peter?”

          “…Nor does Peter.”

          Harry grinned. “There’s no problem with us being here, is there?”

          The corner of Draco’s lips upturned. He knew it wasn’t the ideal situation for either of them, but he couldn’t help himself. The green-eyes that lit up Harry’s face were irresistible. “Right.” It was barely more than a whisper.

          Harry’s hands found Draco’s and his tightened his grip around them. His heart beat heavily in his chest as he watched the taller boy take in a breath and pull his hands back. “I’m not going to hurt you, Draco.” And it once again occurred to Harry that most people in Draco’s life were less than kind to him. “I’m never going to.”

          Draco bit his lip as he eyed the dark-haired boy standing before him. He hid his hands behind his back and took another short breath. “You understand I can’t trust you yet?” he questioned.

          “I understand you don’t think you can,” was Harry’s reply.

          Draco turned and returned to the red chair, and Harry followed, sitting in the green one. They watched silently out the window for some time before Harry proposed a game of wizard’s chess, which led to frivolous conversation and a late night for the two until they drifted to sleep in their respectful armchairs, Harry’s arm stretched across the gap to where his fingers were now loosely hooked around Draco’s.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I finally give Draco the strength to get out of an abusive relationship because he deserves better.

Draco woke up and rubbed his eyes with his spindly fingers. He blinked several times before remembering where he was and glancing towards the other armchair. The corners of his lips upturned at the sight of the other boy sleeping in the chair, his head hanging slightly to the side and his glasses askew. He watched until the green eyes finally opened several minutes later.

          “Good morning,” Draco said, quietly.

          Harry blinked and pushed his glasses properly onto the bridge of his nose. “’Morning.” He glanced down at the golden watch on his wrist. “It’s time for breakfast. Shall I leave first, or you?”

          Draco swallowed and his smile fell as he remembered he couldn’t be caught walking the halls with Harry. “I-I’ll go first, I suppose. I should... I should find Peter.” He stood and avoided looking at Harry as he crossed to the door. “Will I – will I see you tonight?” There was a hint of nervousness in his voice as he asked, before the other boy replied:

          “Yes.”

          Draco hurried from the room, through the seventh floor hallways and down the grand staircase. He was stopped on the second floor, when he felt someone grab him by the back of the robes and drag him down a hallway and into the girl’s lavatory.

          “Where have you _been_?!”

          Draco made a small noise as Peter released his robes. “I was upstairs in the library.”

          “Were you there _all night_?” Peter questioned, irritated.

          “People don’t fancy me in the common room, and I needed to study. I’m not doing too well in Charms –”

          “Next time, you tell me where the bloody hell you’re going.”

          “Peter.” Draco took a step back.

          “Come here.”

          Another step back, this time matched by Peter’s step forward. “Peter, look –”

          Another step, this time with Draco’s back hitting a bathroom stall. Peter filled the gap between them until he was pressed against Draco, their lips together. The bruises on Draco’s face throbbed under the pressure but he knew it was better if he didn’t protest. Peter’s hands found their way under Draco’s robes and tugged on his belt buckle, his lips parting Draco’s and his tongue roaming the cavern of Draco’s mouth. Draco heard Moaning Myrtle wail and slam one of the toilet stalls.

          Draco shoved the other boy back. “Peter, stop!”

          Peter removed his hands from Draco and stepped back, annoyed. “What?”

          “I’m really hungry,” Draco said, his stomach growling as if on cue. “I don’t feel like this right now.”

          Peter rolled his eyes. “You disappear every single night, and you always have excuses. It’s almost like you don’t even want to be with me.”

          “I do,” Draco lied, “it’s just –”

          “Then shut up. I’ll have the house elves bring you something to eat later.” And before Draco could further protest, the brunette was sucking on his neck. He gulped and relaxed against the toilet stall.

 

xXx

 

“Where’s Draco?” Hermione asked as Harry sat down across from her.

          He furrowed his brow. “I dunno. He was headed to eat before me,” he replied.

          “Hm. What were you two up to last night?” Hermione questioned, giving Harry an all-knowing look.

          “Well,” Harry replied, folding his arms on the table and glancing to make sure nobody was listening to their conversation, “there was a fair bit of crying. And some hand holding. Pretty impressive expletives exchanged over Wizard’s chess.”

          “ _And_?” Hermione pressed.

          “That’s all, Hermione. I... he does have a boyfriend. And not a good boyfriend, the type of boyfriend you’d expect to hate me, wish Voldemort was reigning, and date an extremely vulnerable depressed guy who he can abuse.” Harry tried to hide the venom and jealousy in his voice, but he knew Hermione could read him. If Peter treated Draco well, he wouldn’t mind so much, but after all they had went through to bring peace to the wizarding world, he couldn’t bear to watch the senseless pain and cruelty that still existed.

          “Is that how he got that?” Hermione nodded towards the door of the Great Hall, where Draco was quietly slipping into the room. Harry nodded, eyeing the boy who seemed in a much worse mood than he had left Harry in. His eyes followed Draco across the room, to where he sat down at the edge of the table and stared at an empty plate.

 

xXx

 

Draco was quiet when Harry entered the Room of Requirement that night. There was no window today, just a lamp dimly streaming yellow light into the room. Harry found Draco sitting limply in an armchair, his robes discarded and his shirt unbuttoned.

          “How are you?” Harry asked, dumping his bag of homework in the floor and walking over to Draco’s armchair. He welcomed himself to join Draco in the chair, tangling their legs together and wrapping an arm around Draco’s shoulders. Draco just shrugged, and Harry noticed the hickeys covering his neck, collarbone and chest. “Draco, I don’t want you to let him do this anymore.”

          Draco turned his head to meet Harry’s eyes. “I know,” he replied wearily.

          “You have to stop it.”

          “I know.”

 

xXx

 

Draco could nearly already feel his ribs bruising as he was slammed into the sink in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. It had been a week since he told Harry he would end things with Peter, and every time he tried Peter just bugged him for more snogging, and today he was trying to talk the blond into sex in one of the bathroom stalls when the blond snapped and yelled that it was over.

          “He doesn’t love you,” Peter said, disgusted, “you know that, don’t you? He never will. Nobody ever will. You’re a disgrace, and everyone here knows it. I don’t know why I thought you could be more than a broken, losing soldier.” Draco didn’t even look at him or try to defend himself, he simply gripped the sink with one hand and closed his fingers around the wand in his pocket with his other.

          “Go ahead and go for Potter, Draco. Let him screw you, let him touch you, let him do whatever he is going to do with you. But I promise you, in the end, that’s all it is. You don’t deserve to be loved.” There were hollow footsteps and then the door slammed. Draco exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and started casting spells in random directions, breaking a toilet stall door off the hinges and causing a sizeable dent in the wall to crumble, before he lowered himself to the floor and sat in an unusual silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter is going to jump to around Christmas time :) And there's going to be some more Draco x Harry snogging soon. I do apologize if this chapter wasn't very good.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so short and bleh sorry :p but I haven't had a whole lot of motivation and thought you guys deserved something. xx

The first time that the Room of Requirements offered up a bed instead of armchairs was on the evening of December twenty-first. There was more freedom in the castle with most of the students home for Christmas. Harry knew that Ginny still needed time to heal, so while she went to the Burrow for Christmas, he had stayed at Hogwarts. Hermione had elected to stay at the castle as well, this being her first Christmas without her parents, and Ron remained with his girlfriend after Dean and Seamus had pulled him aside in the dormitory the night before he was leaving and pointed out that his girlfriend was rather distraught about her parents still be somewhere in Australia.

          With less students around the castle, it was easier for Harry and Draco to spend time together. The last couple of months had been spent mostly in the Room of Requirement and occasional rendezvous in lesser-known passageways Harry discovered on the Marauder’s Map. They had snuck outside to walk by the lake and watch the sunset, when Harry had noticed the way the ice-covered water reflected in his boyfriend’s blue eyes and, as though he had been possessed for a moment in time, felt the words “I love you” roll off of his tongue. They had made their way up to the Room of Requirement in a fevered round of snogging. When they got inside, Harry pushed Draco onto the bed and continued the kiss. Draco pulled away to rip off Harry’s sweater and Harry began unbuttoning Draco’s shirt. He worked his way down Draco’s torso, kissing all the exposed flesh he could find. He stopped when he got to Draco’s hip, where raised strips of flesh were barely visible but apparent to the touch. He glanced up at the other boy’s face before gently kissing the scars and pulling himself back up to meet Draco’s lips.

          A moment later Harry began sucking on Draco’s exposed collar bone, and Draco let out a gasp. “Harry,” he muttered. This was met by a small ‘mhm’ from Harry, who moved to a new spot on Draco’s skin. “Harry, do you want to...?” He didn’t get to finish, because Harry’s lips were slammed against his and Harry’s hands began undoing his belt buckle. The boys’ clothes were discarded without their lips parting as they feverishly felt each other’s flesh.

          Suddenly, Draco felt something pull at his stomach. _I promise you, in the end, that’s all it is. You don’t deserve to be loved._

          He sat up and pulled away from Harry, slipping off the bed to find his clothes.

          “Draco?” Harry asked quietly, worriedly frowning at his boyfriend. “What are you doing?”

          “I... I just...” He had initiated it, he knew Harry liked him. Harry _loved_ him. But the words still rang in his head. _You don’t deserve to be loved._

          “You can get dressed,” Harry said, noticing the scared look on Draco’s face. “It’s okay. Do you want me to get dressed? I’ll get dressed.” Harry slid out of bed and began dressing himself. Draco watched him for a second before pulling on his own discarded trousers and shirt. Harry was wearing his jeans and undershirt.

          Draco watched Harry try to perform a spell on the messed bed, curse when it didn’t work, and then again so that the bed popped into being clean and re-made. He returned his wand to the pocket of his discarded robes. “Better?” he asked. Draco felt his eyes water as he realized Harry was legitimately trying to make things okay.

          He began feeling as though his lungs had stopped, breath fighting to fill his chest. Harry leaped to his feet and grabbed the taller boy’s hands, placing them both onto his own heart. Deep breath after deep breath, Draco began to regain regularity to his lungs. Harry caressed the side of his face before returning to the bed and patting the spot beside him. Sheepishly, Draco returned to the bed and curled up against Harry’s side, burying his head in his lover’s chest. Harry bit his lip and petted Draco’s hair, “We don’t have to do anything, Draco. It’s okay to not be ready for something.”

          Draco lifted his head slightly. “It’s not... it’s not that –”

          “You don’t have to explain,” Harry interrupted, looking down into the other’s icy eyes. “You look worn out. Sleep, love.” He gently nudged Draco onto his side and ran his hands over the blond’s back. Draco felt his shoulders relax under the other boy’s touch and resigned to closing his eyes and, at the very least, pretending to rest to ease some of the other boy’s concern.


End file.
